


a match for him and more

by ElasticElla



Category: And Then There Were None - Christie
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Minor Character Death, light gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Vera shivers as the waves crash into the shore, abruptly stops walking.Philip turns to her with a raised eyebrow, “Change your mind about the house?”





	a match for him and more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



> title is a quote from the book, in wargrave's letter
> 
> the diverging point being: what if vera and philip hadn't found the doctor's body that day?

Vera shivers as the waves crash into the shore, abruptly stops walking.

Philip turns to her with a raised eyebrow, “Change your mind about the house?” 

“No,” she says, voice sharp and brittle. “The water’s quieter on the other side, can we…?” 

Philip graciously doesn’t point out how small the island is, that maybe she just doesn’t want to reach a destination and be left with her thoughts. That maybe she’s losing, has already lost, the plot. Not that Philip’s deduced that much, he’s probably more occupied with the murderous maniac in the house. 

“We’ll go the long way around in case he watched us come out here.” 

And that’s where her mind should be as well. There’s two of them, no more guessing who the killer is now. No more dwelling on the past or being overly agitated, she’s going to live. (Playing up being hysterical seemed like a good idea when they were trying to finger a murderer, she didn’t anticipate it actually causing her to panic more.)

“We’ll search the house at dawn, maybe we’ll catch Armstrong sleeping.”

“The boat might come,” he says, but they both know it isn’t a real suggestion. 

“He has food, water, and a bed- we’ll only lose our wits faster out here.” 

“Dawn,” Philip says, his predatory grin back. “We finally know what we’re hunting.” 

.

Neither of them sleep, all too aware that Armstrong might come for them in the night. 

He doesn’t. 

The cold comes instead, a salty sea breeze cutting through her thin dress. Philip holds her after a few shivers, wrapped around her like the warmest of blankets. It’s positively indecent how comfortable she is, could nearly sleep like this. 

Dawn’s fingers reach across the sky all too soon, and they go to the house as stealthily as they can manage. Vera cringes at every snapped twig and crunchy leaf, but Philip looks all the more excited for it. 

The house creaks and moans as they start their search, the doctor’s room first after the ground floor. Neither of them comment on only two figurines remaining on the table. Soon it will fit, if not for the reason Armstrong thinks. As Vera feared, his bedroom is empty. They check the others as well, peeking at the corpses in their beds. One sheet twitches after it falls into place- over the judge- and Vera can’t look under the bed without being obvious. She nods towards it, and Philip rolls his eyes. 

Keeping his gun in hand, he kneels down on the floor, because he obviously doesn’t care a whit for discretion. 

“No monsters under the bed Vera-” he starts teasingly, and several things happen at once. 

The clock loudly chimes six, the not-so-dead Wargrave gets up and tackles Philip, the gun goes clattering across the room, and Wargrave starts choking the younger man. 

“Couldn’t stick to the plan you fat-head,” the judge spits out. “My plan was _perfect!_ ” 

A shot rings out across the room, so loud Vera can’t believe they ever thought wind and her screams could cover it. A near hysterical laugh crawls up her throat, and numb fingers drop the gun. 

Philip shoves the judge off himself, blood smearing all over him. He stands up, still graceful but slow, and Vera can’t stop thinking about how easy it was. Just a press of the fingers, just a single sentence- killing always come easy. 

“Hey, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Philip soothes her, and she believes it. They won. They prevailed over what tried to end them, and she’s so very tired and overwhelmed.

Philip takes her to bed, and she kisses him. He makes her feel alive again, his energy, enthusiasm, contagious. She kisses him, his blood stained fingertips tracing her face. 

.

The weather takes a turn for the worse, and it’s another week before the boat reaches their island. They find a half-written confession from Wargrave, along with answers of how the others died. They spend a morning throwing away every single open food or drink item in the house. It doesn’t strike her as something the judge would leave behind, doesn’t make sense given everything else, but there’s no point in taking chances. There’s a twisted comfort in the paranoia. 

The house is rather nice when it’s just her and Philip and a few stiffs. They find Armstrong while walking along the beach, and Philip grins wolfishly at her, reminding her that he was right all along. Vera kisses him quiet, and they lug the doctor out of the water. One day soon they need to look like proper victims that care about the sanctity of life and wouldn’t dream of harming anyone. 

While they’re waiting for the boat, it turns into a proper vacation. They find a deck of cards and a chess set, have more sealed bottles of booze than they could finish off in a year, and enough tinned tongue that Vera swears once they’re off this island, she’s never eating it again. They paw through everyone’s suitcases, taking all the money and jewelry they can find. They make love beneath the stars in the grass, in the house, in the sea. The waves hold no more fear for her. She knows, accepts what she did. One day, she may pay for it- but today is not that day.


End file.
